


Work of Art

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-25
Updated: 2008-03-25
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam has a plan and Dean is a little leery.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Takes place pre-Jus In Bello

Dean pulled into the empty parking slot and turned off the ignition, staring at the bright neon sign hanging in the window that read ‘Tit for Tat’. “I cannot believe I’m letting you talk me into this. It’s a stupid idea.”

 

Sam was rifling through a folder with several papers in it, obviously distracted but not enough to stop and grin at his brother’s obvious discomfort. He spared a quick glance to where Dean’s grip was white knuckled on the steering wheel. “Dude, you can’t be serious. We’ve had a lot worse than this.”

 

Dean gave a frustrated groan and rolled his eyes. “Don’t like this.”

 

“Don’t have to like it, Dean. Do you need me to go over the finer points of why we need to do this?” Sam’s hand was now resting on the door handle, waiting to see if they were going to get out of the car or end up driving off in a flurry of squealing tires.

 

Dean took a deep breath and sighed, eyes closing. “No. God… let’s just get this over with.” He threw his side door open and got out, body rigid with tension. He leaned back in and leveled a finger in Sam’s direction. “I hate you for this, just for the record.”

 

Sam grinned. “Duly noted.”

 

 

******

 

 

Grimm looked up from where he sat doodling in one of his sketchbooks. The Chinese dragon he was working on for a customer was very intricate with lots of finer detailing. He wanted it to be as perfect as possible. This was going to be a large back piece and bring in quite a bit of cash for him. The ding of the front door opening was an unwelcome distraction but he gave a small grin, trying to go for professional.

 

He watched the two guys make their way in and his first reaction was ‘damn, but that kid’s tall.’ The other one, the shorter one, seemed a bit nervous. First timers then. Fresh canvas for art. “Hey, guys. Help you with something?”

 

Grimm watched as the shorter one lingered near the door. He had seen this behaviour before and something niggled in the back of his mind. It wasn't until he saw the taller, darker one lean in and whisper something to the other that the little light bulb went off in Grimm’s head. The tall one laid a hand on the blonde's lower back, slowly coaxing him into the shop.

 

“Oh, so it was like that was it?” Grim thought to himself. Grimm bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning out loud.

 

The big guy still had his hand on his friend's lower back when he flashed a nervous smile at Grimm. "Um, yeah. Hi. We sort of need tattoos."

 

Grimm gestured around the room. "Well, you've come to right place."

 

"Good. I'm Sam," the big guy nodded. His friend was looking around warily and Sam gave him a shove forward. "This is Dean."

 

"Yeah, Sammy wants to get a big emo teddy bear clutching a heart tattooed on his ass…" 

 

Grimm watched as Sam punched Dean in the arm for the comment. Dean gave him a wounded looked and, Grimm swore to God, actually pouted. "Dude!"

 

"Shut up," Sam growled under his breath and settled a large hand on the back of Dean's neck. He pulled Dean closer and whispered, but Grimm still heard him. "Don't be a baby. We need this."

 

"Sammy…" Dean groaned under his breath, but Grimm knew the signs. The man was breaking down, bending to the pressure.

 

Grimm saw Sam's thumb caressing Dean just behind the ear. He couldn’t take it anymore and smacked his palms flat down on the counter. "Nadia! Get out here! I don't do fruits or newlyweds."

 

Dean balked at the bellow from Grimm, his eyes going wide. “We’re brothers!”

 

Grimm merely rolled his eyes, standing up and collecting his notepad and pencils. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.” With another look of disbelief, he pushed his way through the beaded curtain leading into the back.

 

“That’s it,” Dean whispered under his breath, turning quickly and heading for the door. His hand was on the push bar when he was suddenly being hauled backwards across the floor. “Dude! Get your freakin’ bear paws off me!”

 

Sam shook his head and gave Dean a push down onto the red faux velvet couch. “It took a week’s worth of needling you to get you here.”

 

Dean grimaced and covered his eyes with one hand. “God, Sam…don’t say needling.”

 

Sam gave a huff of a laugh and dropped down next to his brother, plopping the folder on the small, scarred table next to him. “How many times have you been stitched up? I don’t understand why you’re so scared of this.”

 

Dean sunk down into the cushions. “Not scared,” he pouted. “Just not completely at ease with the idea of a tattoo gun puncturing my skin with like…a hundred jabs a second, man. It’s totally one thing to know you’re being stitched up so you don’t die. Different when you’re literally inflicting the pain on yourself for no damn good reason.”

 

Sam opened his mouth to remind his brother exactly why his reasons were good enough to merit a visit to the tattoo parlor when another voice spoke up.

 

A female voice interrupted their argument. “If you’re so adverse to getting a tattoo then maybe the both of you should have more discussion on it.”

 

Sam and Dean turned to look at the girl making her way out from behind the beaded curtain. She had very dark midnight black hair cut in a short bob, the straight cut bangs dyed a bright vivid red. Several earrings dangled from the many piercings in her ears, one on each side gauged. She had a lip ring, a nose ring, and an eyebrow ring. It would have looked awful on anyone else but she pulled it off with the confidence in which she carried herself. Both of her arms were fully sleeved, the colors vivid and bright but not coming across as gaudy.

 

“People get tats for different reasons, most is for personal expression…like an art form. They see the body as a blank canvas and paint it accordingly.” She moved out from behind the counter and went to stand in front of them, her hand reaching out towards the folder on the side table. Neither Winchester spoke, watching as she glanced at the sketches inside the folder. “And others for more personal reasons. These are quite descriptive.” Her black lacquered fingernails tapped at the drawings.

 

"Hey…" Dean flashed her a grin that he saved for any semi-attractive woman under the age of forty-five. "I like freaky chicks."

 

Sam smacked Dean upside the back of his head. "Sorry, I haven't been able to beat the flirt out of him yet."

 

Nadia was anything but offended. Dean was rubbing the back of his head glaring up at Sam. "I think it's cute. I can see why you want to tattoo him now. Marking someone is extremely hot."

 

Dean's eyes widened and his mouth gaped. "He's not… we're not gay!" He stood up and his arms flailed a bit. "Why does everyone think we're gay?" Dean pointed at his chest then at Sam. "He's my brother." When Nadia just kept leaning on the counter and smirking, Dean sighed and ran his hands threw his hair. "I'm the butch one. If anyone's marking anyone…" Nadia still kept smirking at him. "He's the bitch."

 

“Mmmhmmm,” she murmured. “Dominant in public, submissive in the bedroom.” She grinned rather menacingly. “I know the type.” She gave Sam a lewd wink. “I don’t judge, dollface. I just do the inking.” She gave the folder in her hand a little wave. “Why don’t you two come on back? We’ll take a closer look at these and get what you want drawn up. You’ve got quite a few concepts here and some of these are quite delicately detailed.” She turned and started towards the curtain, turning to watch as both of them sat still on the couch. “Second guessing yourselves?”

 

Dean and Sam turned to look at each other. Resolve crumbling under Sam’s puppy dog expression, he gave a weary sigh and stood up. “You are so the one paying for this. Your idea, your money.”

 

Sam’s face broke into a huge grin. “Gotcha covered.”

 

The backroom was very plain compared to the opulent space out front. The walls were a very stark white and the only things breaking up that monotony of it all were the outrageous pictures on the walls. There were little cards tacked underneath each stating what tattoo convention they had been entered in and what place they took. Each cubicle was closed in by high polished wooden railings, giving it a touch of understated elegance. Some of the other places Sam had snuck away to for a peek looked nothing like this, instead white plasterboard or just hospital style curtained off areas had been the only thing separating each cubicle. It spoke volumes to Sam about how well of a business they had to run to afford the niceties. 

 

“Nadia’s the name and pain’s my game,” she said, throwing one arm in a grand gesture as she ushered them into her work area, pulling the heavy velvet curtain closed behind them for privacy. “You can have a seat there if you’d like,” she gave Sam a nod at a small recliner that was set up in the far corner of her work area. “You, sweetheart, can sit right down there. I have a feeling it would be easier to get you out of the way first.”

 

Dean dropped down into the chair and looked over at the desk where all of the tools of her trade were set up. “The name’s Dean. That’s Sam.”

 

She gave a nod and reached out on the desk to pull a light fixture closer and some transparent tracing paper. “So, this looks like a standard pentagram with a bit extra thrown into it.” She flipped to another page, looking closely at the words written here. “And this is in Latin.”

 

Sam’s eyebrows nearly shot off his head. “How’d you know that?”

 

Nadia grinned. “Not all of us tattoo artists are stupid. I went to UCLA. Took up a dead languages course while I was there. I know a little bit.” She shifted a bit, looking at the scrawl on the page. “I don’t actually see any of this in the tat.”

 

Sam nodded his head. “I’m about to ask you to do something a bit strange when it comes to doing the tattoo.”

 

Nadia grinned. “Honey, you can’t shock me. When you’ve tattooed someone’s penis, you come back and see me and then we’ll talk strange.”

 

Dean visibly paled. “Oh god, I think I might puke now, thanks.”

 

Nadia laughed. “Could be much worse. Judging by the way you fill out that nice shirt of yours I’d love to talk you into a nipple ring… or two.”

 

Dean groaned, one hand coming up to absently rub at his chest. “Maybe Sam should go first.”

 

Sam ignored Dean’s comment. “Each word needs to be written inside each of those rays coming off the pentagram. After they’ve all been written, they can then be filled in with ink.”

 

Nadia nodded her head slowly, fingers tracing over the words as if studying them as a scholar would an old text. “You’ll know that they’re on you but not anyone else.” She waited for Sam’s nod before continuing on. "I can do that," Nadia said with a nod of her own. Her fingers were already tracing over the design going over it in her head. "Going over any area repeatedly is going to sting. You guys need to say anything… or do anything special while I'm tattooing?"

 

Dean gave her a guarded glance, "Why'd you ask that?"

 

Nadia shrugged and picked up the paper to examine one of the drawings more closely. "Tattooing isn't just about the ink. It's about the experience. The ceremony." She gave Dean a pointed look and tapped the paper. "This means something to you. You two do whatever you gotta do. I don't judge. Plus, I got the feeling that this isn't a normal tat job. I love doing something… special."

 

“Uhm,” Dean shifted a bit in the chair and cleared his throat. “Can I ask a favour before you start?”

 

Nadia was busy tracing the pattern very carefully to the tracing paper, a small compass in her hand to make sure that the circle was exact. “Sure thing, gorgeous. Hit me.”

 

“Well, it’s kinda… strange.”

 

Nadia never looked up from her sketching. “Penis, remember?”

 

Dean shuddered visibly and Sam had to cover his mouth to hide his laughter. “Well, is there any way you can mix this in with the ink?” Dean reached into his inside jacket pocket and produced a small bag.

 

Nadia looked up and reached out for it, her fingers tracing the bag almost reverently. “Let me guess… someone’s ashes?”

 

Sam leaned forward, frowning slightly but kept himself quiet. He wondered exactly what Dean was asking.

 

Dean gave a silent nod. 

 

Nadia smiled. “Like I said, I’ve had stranger things asked. I’ve done this before though. It’s actually not as uncommon as you’d think.”

 

“Dean,” Sam’s voice was tight as he spoke. “Who’s…”

 

“They’re dad’s,” came the soft reply. He didn’t go into detail at all but Sam could see the pain etched clear as day on his brother’s face. 

 

Sam bit at his bottom lip before reaching into his own jacket and produced two small vials. “Can this be added as well?”

 

Nadia’s eyebrows shot up. “That blood?”

 

Sam nodded and watched as Dean gave a soft smile his way. “Yeah, mine and Dean’s actually.”

 

“Dude, how did you get…”

 

“You were sleeping,” was Sam’s quick answer. “And I think it’ll give the… symbol a bit more if we included each other’s in it.”

 

Nadia stretched her hand out for the vials. “Can’t say I’ve done this before. It’s not exactly a real good idea what with all the diseases and things out there but I can still do it. Goes against our policy.” She stood and snuck to look around outside her cubicle but Grimm was nowhere around. “I’ll do it, but the price is gonna go up a little. This could get me in serious trouble.”

 

“We won’t tell a soul,” Sam shot back quickly. “It’ll just be between the three of us.”

 

"Would a big tip help?" Dean offered.

 

"It wouldn't hurt," Nadia chuckled. "You're lucky you just waxed recently. Most men don't like it when I have to shave their chest. You know that whole man-o-lantern look."

 

Dean looked down at his chest, which was still covered in a t-shirt. They hadn't even told her where they wanted their tattoos yet. "How did you know?"

 

Nadia looked up from where she was tracing a straight edge of the pentagram. "I looked. You're getting it over your heart." She smiled softly at Dean. "I'm not wrong, am I?"

 

"No, but…" Dean shifted uncomfortably in the chair. "How did you…"

 

"You seem like the kind of guy to wax your chest. Am I wrong on that either?"

 

It wasn't something he liked to talk about. He still remembered the uncomfortable and embarrassing conversation with his dad after he was caught shaving his chest when he was fifteen. It was almost as bad when his dad caught him teaching Sam how to do it after Sam bugged him for weeks.

 

Dean scratched the knee of his jeans, worrying the frayed hole there. "It helps with the definition."

 

"Uh huh," Nadia chuckled and nodded towards Sam with her head. "And it doesn't hurt that he likes it?"

 

Dean blushed, the red stretching all the way down and into the top of his tee-shirt.

 

Nadia laughed again. “Not the first and not the last. Alright,” she said, slapping the ruler down on the table and holding up the pattern. She took it over to the Xerox machine and made another copy for Sam. “Lose the jacket and shirt, sugar. Time to get this on you. Colour preference on this?”

 

“Blue,” both Winchesters said in unison.

 

Nadia gave a nod and sat back down at the desk, reaching to pour the ink into a small cup. She carefully pulled on her purple latex gloves before adding some of the ashes and the vial marked ‘S’ in with the ink. “Your blood will of course naturally mix in as I do this.”

 

Dean paled visibly at her remark as well as watching her fit a new needle into one of the guns. “I’m gonna bleed?”

 

Nadia grinned as she leaned over Dean now and checked to make sure there was no hair growth before placing the pattern carefully over his heart. “’Course you are. Did you think otherwise? A tattoo is basically nothing more than adding a scar with colour to your body.” She glanced over Dean’s torso and shoulders. “Just adding it to your collection, big boy.”

 

She handed Dean a mirror. “Check that over while I finish getting the gun ready.”

 

Dean’s hand was shaking a bit as he looked at where she’d placed the design. “Sammy…”

 

He looked up and watched as Sam unfolded himself from the recliner he’d been sitting in, grabbing a nearby stool to sit next to his brother instead. “Looks good.” He silently reached out and took hold of Dean’s hand. “How long will this take?”

 

Nadia gave the trigger on the gun a little pull, listening to the whir as the needle moved quickly up and down in it. “Can’t really say. I don’t rush through these things. Some artists do in order to get more clients in and out the door. Me, I’d rather make sure I get it done the way you want it.”

 

"Take as long as you need." Dean licked his lips nervously. "It's not like I care."

 

Nadia patted Dean on the shoulder. "Of course not. Now you're gonna feel a little prick… then another and another and…"

 

"You're not helping," Dean groaned. Sam squeezed his hand and Dean took a deep breath. "Just get this over with."

 

"Sure thing, sweetheart. No moving. If you have to move, tell me and then I'll stop. You can scream and cry all you want, but no moving." Nadia tugged at the necklace around Dean's neck. "This should come off."

 

Dean shook his head. "It stays on."

 

"It could get in the way."

 

Dean's voice was tight when he answered, "Then work around it."

 

Whatever the strange pendant was Nadia knew it was something important to Dean. "Okay, man. I can deal." She very gently moved the necklace so that the pendant hung against his back instead. When Dean said nothing, she assumed that was fine. She touched the needle into the ink and then to Dean’s skin and before she started asked, "You're absolutely sure? There's still time to back out."

 

Dean wasn't looking at her or even the needle anymore. He had turned his head and was looking at Sam. "I'm sure."

 

"Okay, here we go. Remember to breathe."

 

As the needle dug into Dean's skin, the pain flared up. It wasn't intense pain, but rather a constant, annoying pain. Like being stung by a wasp over and over again.

 

"Dean," Sam hissed and drew his attention back. He tried to focus on Sam rather than the whir of the tattoo gun. It wasn't working though as he felt Nadia start to trace the intricate lines of the tattoo. 

 

Sam knew the signs and leaned closer to Dean. He rested his forehead against his brother's and squeezed his hand.

 

Dean kept his breathing even, hand tightening more out of reflex on Sam’s than anything else. He let his mind wander away from him, embraced the pain that would recede and then flair up again as she started the outline on another part of his chest. Gradually, the pain subsided and stayed down. When he opened his eyes, never even realizing he had closed them, he found himself staring into Sam’s. His brother was watching him with tender affection and a bit of lust in his eyes all at once. Sam leaned into him more, lips coming to press softly against his. He went with it for a moment before remembering that someone else was in the room. He jerked his head back, felt Nadia pull away as well. His skin seemed to be throbbing with something more than just that touch of pain from the needle. He frowned a bit, suddenly missing the stinging bite of where she had been working.

 

“Emo bitch,” he whispered at Sam, trying hard to frown but finding it difficult.

 

Sam merely shrugged, pulling back but never letting go of Dean’s hand. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”

 

“Okay if I get started again?” Nadia teased, her voice holding a very light twinge of amusement.

 

Dean nodded his head, keeping himself focused on Sam. He gave a quick squeeze to his brother’s hand before she started again.

 

Nadia got lost in her work, following the lines and curves of each individual aspect of the tattoo. The pentagram itself was interesting as some of the lines never really integrated fully back into each other. Parts of the lines were left open as if touching them together would be against some unwritten rule. Her mind wondered more at this strange tattoo though she couldn’t bring herself to ask about. A tattoo was very personal and sometimes the client would fill her in with stories that were full of joy or full of sorrow. She knew deep down that this one was a mixture of both. Blood of the living and ash of the dead mixed in to carry a proud scar for all times on the bearer. She worked the Latin words in carefully, the beautiful script seeming to flow like water from the tip of the needle. A shame that they would be covered up once finished. Her ears picked up the soft sound of Sam’s voice. She lifted her eyes for a moment to see Sam’s face centimeters from Dean’s again, his voice lulling and soft, almost hypnotic as he spoke in Latin. She smiled softly and continued on. Dean was much more relaxed now. She turned to dip the needle again in the ink before starting again.

 

When she was finished, she pulled back to look at her work. It stood out in stark relief against Dean’s chest, the blue an almost black. With every breath it seemed to shift and ripple against his skin. For a moment she swore the words that she had inked and then covered gave a faint glimmer in a soft green light before surrendering to the colour over top of it. She reached back for the small water bottle and a cloth, squirting a small amount on Dean’s chest and then wiping away the excess ink and blood.

 

“That it?” Dean asked, voice slightly breathless and yet relieved all at once.

 

She finished cleaning up a little bit around the edges. Nadia had to admit that the tattoo was gorgeous in its mixture of simplicity and intricacy. There was something special about this tattoo and men that she would always remember. "Yeah, that's it."

 

"Can I see it?"

 

Nadia laughed. "Of course you can." People always asked that, as if she could keep them from seeing something that was a part of their body.

 

Sam's attention had solely been focused on Dean, so when he leaned over to peek at the tattoo, his reaction was genuine. His lips parted as a silent 'oh' slipped from his lips. He shifted, one hand coming to rest on Dean's shoulder to hold him still. Nadia thought Sam just wanted a closer look, but when she saw the intense, possessive look in his eyes, she knew he was going to do something different. She should have stopped Sam from kissing the fresh tattoo. Every part of her screamed about hygiene, but still she kept silent. As Sam's lips ghosted over the fresh and raw tattoo, Dean groaned and arched his back. Sam started to whisper more Latin phrases against Dean's skin with a reverence Nadia had only seen a few times in her life.

 

She stood then for a moment, quickly walking out of the cubicle and making sure she shut the curtain tight behind her when she did. She moved out through the beaded curtain, heading straight for the front door. The air was crisp and cool as she stepped out onto the sidewalk, the sun just now starting to dip below the horizon. Grimm looked up from where he had taken a seat on the stone bench, cigarette dangling precariously between his fingers. “How’s the happy couple holding up back there?”

 

Nadia quelled the groan that wanted to launch its way out of her system. Instead, she merely reached down and snagged the cigarette from his hand. He watched with shocked eyes as she brought it to her lips and took a deep inhale in, the ash flaring bright red as she drew on it. Her eyes closed and she could still see the tattoo in her mind, those words flashing as she’d finished colouring over the last one. The looks on their faces as they’d been lost in each other afterwards made her knees buckle a bit and she dropped back to lean against the glass of the building window. She coughed on the smoke. God, it had been years since she’d had one. The acrid taste of the smoke was thick on her tongue. She drew a steadying breath and exhaled, blue smoke rising up and about her head. “They’re just fine. Needed a break was all. My hand was cramping.”

 

“Mmhmm,” came Grimm’s chuckled response. “Bring a change of panties with you today, Nadia?”

 

She flushed and handed the cigarette back to him. “You’re an ass at the best of times.”

 

“And you just love yourself an ink-virgin, don’t ya? Especially the pretty not-so-straight boys.”

 

The door swung open and Sam’s head peeked out, looking a bit flushed with embarrassment as he found Nadia out there. “Uh, I’m ready whenever you are.”

 

“Oh, I’ll just bet,” came Grimm’s soft reply as he took another drag of his cigarette.

 

Nadia cleared her throat and tried to cover her own nervousness with a smile. “I’ll be right in, gorgeous.”

 

“No sex in the back room!” Grimm shouted out to Sam. “It’s unhygienic.”

 

Sam gaped for a moment and disappeared back into the shop.

 

Nadia punched Grim in the arm, just above his koi fish tattoo. “How do you stay in business?”

 

“Oh, please. You can’t tell me they weren’t pawing each other back there. I saw the way they looked at each other. Hell, you’d probably clap if you weren’t working the needle.”

 

“Nah…” Nadia shook her head and smirked. “I’d take pictures. They’re cute though, aren’t they?”

 

Grimm grunted. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t check out other guys.”

 

Laughing, Nadia started back inside. She found the boys in reversed positions and forced herself to stay professional. Forcing a smile on her face, she took the next tracing and placed it for Sam and then the process started all over again.

 

It was bit different this time around. Tattooing Sam went easier, smoother. The kid kept his features pretty schooled, not making a sound as the needle did its job and marked him with the symbol. Dean had occasionally cringed or made a slight noise. In all honesty she would have expected the opposite from them. Dean repeated the same lulling words as she worked the Latin inscriptions in, hands once again intertwined as they sat closer together. She was ready this time when Dean leaned in, brushing his lips over the newly done tattoo. Her back was tastefully turned as she started cleaning up her work area. 

 

Ointment and plastic wrap went on the both of them now with strict instructions to make sure to keep the ointment on to prevent it from scabbing up. Don’t scratch at it. Don’t pick at it. Keep it moist. Stay out of direct sunlight until it heals.

 

They paid her in cash, close to six hundred dollars and Nadia shook her head trying to give some of it back. They were very insistent. In the end, she was left holding the money and watching as they climbed into their car, driving off in a flurry of squealing tires and loud classic rock music. She stood staring after them, the moon having risen and its beams washing over her bare arms as she watched the disappearing taillights. 

 

“Ready to close up, Nadia?” 

 

Grimm’s voice brought her back to reality but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something so much more important happened here.

 

“Yeah… yeah, I am.”

 

They called themselves tattoos artists, but some days she felt there was no art to it. It was about business and compromise. She hated people who didn’t appreciate her talent and especially girls with tramp stamps. But thinking about these tattoos, she felt like she had touched the divine. And for some reason, she believed Dean now when he said they were brothers. But, she also knew that they were lovers. That should have bothered her. It should have made her stomach roll instead of quiver.

 

Whatever it was they were involved with, Nadia felt privileged to have played a role in it. After they closed up the shop, she did something she hadn’t done since her childhood. On the way home, Nadia walked into a Catholic church and lit a candle. She prayed to the Virgin Mary for Dean and Sam’s safety. When Nadia crossed herself, she looked up to the beloved face of the Virgin Mother and swore she saw her weep.


End file.
